It was getting ridiculous. And a little bit scary. Every spare moment I encountered, I’d reach for the phone. What? This graphic file I’ve worked on for the last 8 whole minutes might take 17 seconds to save? Well, I’ll just pop open Facebook while I wait. Every thought I had was thought in “fb voice” inside my head. It needed to stop. 

Now, I’m not addicted, that’s what I told myself, despite hearing myself say out loud, with my over-the-top, everything-is-a-drama voice “oooh my gawwwwd! I’m such an effing addict!” …. That’s the “joke” I’d say every time I found myself down the Facebook rabbit hole, and getting caught there. 

Every time I reached for the phone while still in bed before even saying good morning to my hubs (who was on his checking for overnight earseeds orders). I’d think, in typical addict style “I can stop anytime I want to.” 

But I couldn’t. 

I’m not gonna lie either. Feeling like a Facebook addict feels a lot like feeling like a total loser. 

There’s actually a lot about Facebook that can make you feel like a total loser. Besides the obvious ones, like the overwhelming comparisonitis, the FOMO, (fear of missing out) or the feeling you have when you find yourself arguing with a stranger about something so stupid – or even not stupid – but afterwards you realize “I may be part of the problem.” 

But then it’s the other things. 

When dinner is served uncomfortably close to bedtime because you were wrapped up in some  Facebook conversation. When you get into an argument with your husband because, though you swear left and right he didn’t say something he swears he said, you know he probably did and you just tuned him out. When your kid is calling “mommy, mommy….” And you don’t hear and then roar “one minute!!” …Just like in all those articles that tell parents to get off Facebook and pay attention to their kids. (Though, to be fair, who would ever read those articles if they didn’t stumble upon them via Facebook, right?) 

  
When I finally had the idea to make Elie change my password and log me out I knew it was not going to be easy. 

But I didn’t expect it to be so hard. 

Within minutes I started to get itchy phone fingers. I was like “oh! Let me just go check….” -oh, wait. I can’t. 

About an hour in is when I started to hear my thoughts form, not as simple thoughts, but as cleverly worded FB status updates sharing my thoughts. Holy crap.  I think in Facebook language. Are we as a collective society teaching our children to think in status update language? Has this already been discovered? Maybe I should post it as a question in a status update? Wait. Damnit.  Should I go google this question? What if the answer comes up as a Facebook page? I won’t be able to see it because I can’t get back in to Facebook until Elie signs me in. Can I actually survive this detox?  And as an aside, I can’t be the only one feeling this way. How will our children cope? Is society doomed? 

(Side note, I’m writing in this blog, that has remained stagnant for many months. My FB status update voice in my brain NEEDED to get out. Hmmmm. In some ways I’d rather just post to my blog but then I feel like perhaps I’m guilty  just filling the world with more noise and lord knows that last thing the world needs is more noise. Something to more deeply ponder on another day.) 

So, today is day two of no Facebook. 

I’ve gotten more work done in two days than in the last two weeks. 

I’ve also organized my freezer, I wish I had a “before” pic but now that my phone isn’t strapped to my hand I didn’t have it on hand to take a “before.” 

AFTER:

  
Those labeled bins are all new! 

I did laundry and actually folded it. 

I went for a walk. An actual walk. I listened to TED talks while I walked. 

Then I made dinner:

  
And they were ready on time. 

—-dammit! I burned the brocolli  while writing this blog post!!! 

Ugh. Can’t win.